


I wanna dance with somebody (feel the heat with somebody)

by badbavarois



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 80s vibes, Birthday, Kissing, M/M, Rollerblades & Rollerskates, Strangers to Lovers, Wingman Phichit Chulanont, the russian skaters wear matching jackets bc they're those friends (tm)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 20:46:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13598049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badbavarois/pseuds/badbavarois
Summary: Yuuri just turned twenty-one, and Phichit is determined to make this a birthday he'll never forget.





	I wanna dance with somebody (feel the heat with somebody)

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  based on [this,](https://mother-iwa-chan.tumblr.com/post/160925779094/kayshasiemens-shameless-repost-for-the-weekday/)  
> edited by haobits on twitter!!

Yuuri is twenty-one years and one day old and his head is still pounding at his temples from his birthday party the night before. Phichit had shown up with alcohol and cake and Mario Kart, and while Yuuri had told himself he wouldn’t drink, it didn’t last long. 

 

He didn’t think he truly knew regret until Phichit dragged him out the next night to roller skate. He threw up in the parking lot, but Phichit ignored his pleas to go home.

 

“It’ll be fun,” he said. Yuuri knows his best friend well enough to not believe him, but it’s easier to give in. 

 

Phichit drags him to the counter to rent skates, and while they wait, Yuuri looks around. The rink is ‘80s themed with black lights and neon posters and spotlights and the ugly carpet you can find in every bowling alley ever. The flashing colors don’t help his headache, but the greasy food Phichit promises to order him after sounds better than going home to an empty fridge. 

 

They rent a locker to shove their stuff into, and Yuuri is about to put his skates on when Phichit blinks and looks at him funny.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Yuuri frowns. “Putting on my skates. Obviously.”

 

“You forgot your leg warmers!” 

 

Yuuri winces. Phichit bought them on the way, and Yuuri had hoped he would forget them in the car like he seemed to do with everything else. Phichit shoves a teal pair into Yuuri’s hands.

 

“Put them on,” he orders.

 

“Come on,” Yuuri whines. “They’re so ugly.”

 

“I don’t care if they’re  _ ugly,” _ Phichit says. He already has his leg warmers on, but he’s struggling to tie his skates tight enough. “It’s for the aesthetic. That’s more important than your comfort, Yuuri. You should know this.”

 

“Remind me why we’re friends.”

 

“Shut up, you love me.” Phichit stands up, a little wobbly on the stained carpet before finding his balance. “Now get ready. I only paid for two hours.”

 

…

 

Yuuri’s ass and palms are bruised within minutes, pinking and tender. Phichit zips around like he was born rocking a pair of inlines, leaving Yuuri to hobble around the edge of the rink, clutching the sideboards like his life depends on it. He wants to blame it on the strobe lights and not his own lack of innate talent, but he sees a few toddlers waddling around sans parents and accepts his fate. 

 

…

 

The rink is empty enough that Yuuri can tell when another group shows up. The three of them are decked out like it’s still the eighties, in matching blue, yellow and pink windbreakers and parachute pants. As awful as their outfits are, they fit right in with the decor. 

 

Phichit skates as fast as his legs can carry him to Yuuri. “If  _ someone - “  _ he glares at Yuuri, “ - wasn’t such a stick in the mud, that could have been us.”

 

Yuuri trips and catches himself on his elbow. “I’m pretty sure the phrase is,  _ ‘that could have been us but you playin.’”  _

 

“It’s not,” Phichit says. He’s skating slowly to keep pace with Yuuri’s stuttering steps. “Because you never play along.”

 

Yuuri hums. He trips again, but this time it’s not due to his own clumsiness - he’s staring at the newcomers. They’re all talented, from what Yuuri can see - they don’t even so much as stumble when they step onto the rink. The tallest one has silver hair and a smile that stops Yuuri’s heart from thirty feet away.

 

“Yuuri?” 

 

“What?”

 

“You seem distracted,” Phichit says, smiling. “Whatcha thinking about?” 

 

“Nothing,” Yuuri says, blushing. Phichit’s smile widens. “Nothing!” 

 

“Sure ~ It’s not the cute boy you’re looking at?”

 

Yuuri falls flat on his ass. Phichit just laughs. “I’m never getting up again.”

 

“Come on,” Phichit says between bursts of laughter. “That floor probably, like, never gets cleaned.”

 

“Don’t care. This is where I die.” Yuuri closes his eyes and accepts his fate. He didn’t plan on dying in a dinghy roller skating rink next to a dive bar, but when it’s your time, it’s your time. Yuuri isn’t one to try to stop fate.

 

“Do you need help?” 

 

Yuuri’s eyes flash open at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, and it takes a hundredth of a second to realize he’s fucked. Standing next to Phichit is the silver-haired guy Yuuri had been staring at. All his blood goes rushing to his cheeks. 

 

“Are you okay? Can you stand?” The man crouches down next to him and rests his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri stops breathing, his world shrunk down to the man’s face and that single point of contact.

 

His mouth is dry and he’s ninety percent sure he’s on the brink of death, but he manages to cough out, “I’m - I’m okay.”

 

“I’m Victor,” he says as he helps Yuuri stand. His hands are warm and soft. Yuuri wants to ask if he uses lotion, and if so, what brand. 

 

He realizes he hasn’t responded and has just been looking at their linked hands for far too long and rips his hand away. “Sorry. I’m Yuuri.”

 

“No, no, it’s okay. You should probably sit down for a bit. You fell pretty hard.”

 

“I…” Yuuri looks for Phichit and spots him halfway down the rink. He waves and flashes a thumbs up. Typical. “Okay.” 

 

Victor holds his elbow and guides him off the rink and deposits him on a metal bench. Yuuri expects him to leave and rejoin his friends, but instead, Victor plops down next to him.

 

“Have you ever skated before, Yuuri?”

 

“No.” Yuuri’s cheeks color. “Was it that obvious?”

 

Victor smiles. Yuuri tries to not stare. “Yeah.”

 

“How long have you been skating?”

 

“I’m a figure skater, actually.” Yuuri’s mind momentarily flashes to Victor in tights, and he has to remind himself they only just met. “Mila and Yurio and I come here once competition season ends, usually.” 

 

“You compete?” Yuuri’s getting more light headed by the second. Victor sounds too good to be true - like something out of a lifetime movie or a romcom he would watch with his sister.

 

“I have since I was  - ah,” Victor frowns. “You let me ramble on about myself. What about you, Yuuri? What do you do?”

 

“I’m a student.”

 

“College?”

 

Yuuri nods. “I’m a lit major.”

 

“Ooh, English. I was never good at that while I was in school. But then again, I always did focus more on skating than my homework.”

 

Yuuri laughs, staring down at his skates. He wants to spend more time with Victor, but he also knows Victor probably wants to go back with his friends, and not be stuck on a bench with some random twenty-something year old he just met.

 

“Hey, Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri jumps, whipping his head around to look at Victor. “What?” 

 

“Do you want me to teach you how to skate?” He looks so earnest, but Yuuri is just confused.

 

“You - what?” he says, sounding like a total idiot. Why would Victor want to  _ teach  _ him, let alone spend more time with him? He’s  -  _ Yuuri,  _ and Victor is some cool figure skating champion or something, probably.

 

“I mean, I’m not nearly as good at roller skating as I am at figure skating, but it would be fun, right?”

 

“I - “

 

“But only if you want to, obviously.” Victor is leaning closer to him - there are only a few inches between their faces. If Yuuri couldn’t breathe before, he’s six feet under now.

 

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I would like that.”

 

…

 

Vicor skates behind Yuuri, holding Yuuri’s hands in his own to stead them. Yuuri’s clumsy - even more so than before - with Victor’s warm breath on his neck, soft hands wrapped around his wrists. It’s like pairs figure skating, except Yuuri falls every two seconds and Victor is perfect at every single thing he does. 

 

“Keep your legs wide,” Victor says, tapping Yuuri’s ankles through his leg warmers with the tip of his skate until he spreads his stance, “and your knees bent.”

 

“This looks so stupid,” Yuuri says, “like I’m trying to shit in the woods.” His hands are warm where Victor is touching them, and his muscles are bruised and screaming, but still - he’s smiling, doing his best to hide it from Phichit, wherever he’s lurking. 

 

“Not nearly as stupid as you falling on your ass all the time.”

 

“Hey!” Yuuri tries to jerk around to glare at Victor, but he trips instead, legs twisted up. The world is spinning below him, and he’s falling, air leaving his lungs. He braces for impact against the waxed wood, but - 

 

Victor catches him at the last second by the elbows. Yuuri is between his thighs, staring up at him. His whole body is on fire.

 

“Hey yourself,” Victor jokes, smiling. Yuuri wants to say it should be illegal for him to be so fucking cute, but he can’t make the words come out. Air has yet to return to his lungs, and he’s still staring up at Victor, frozen in place. “Yuuri? Are you okay?”

 

“Kiss me.”

 

He says it without thinking, and almost takes it back when Victor doesn’t move, just stands still, eyes wide. And Yuuri wishes the words had never come out of his mouth, wishes it right up to the moment Victor steps back, pulling Yuuri with him so he can stand, until he feels Victor’s mouth on his, soft and warm and gentle. 

 

When Victor pulls away, Yuuri follows after, holding him by his collar and shoulders and jaw and hair, refusing to let go of him, needing some point of contact in case he falls. They’re in public, in the middle of a skating rink the day after Yuuri turns twenty-one, still a little hungover, and they don’t even know each other’s last names, but Yuuri could stand here forever, kissing Victor long after closing under the black lights. 

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  sorry if my characterization was wack i haven't read/thought about yoi in ages but i tried  
> comments/kudos are greatly appreciated, and requests are open but not guaranteed.  
> tumblr - shuos-jedao/mother-iwa-chan/claude-lit  
> twitter - cactixix


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